


Of Light

by osmalic



Category: D N Angel
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-17
Updated: 2003-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:24:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osmalic/pseuds/osmalic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Hikari woman speaks about the Light and her Son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Light

**Author's Note:**

> An initial take on Satoshi's mother (the main character in the story), Ryo Hikari, and of course, Satoshi. A little AU, as I haven't read past manga 4 yet. Hints on the Krad spoilers, but everyone knows that. :) C&C's are appreciated. ( **years later:** This was written and published before Tank 4 came out, so I do not claim that this is still within the canon.)

When they told her it was a boy, she felt the tears burst out of her eyes and she began to sob. Of course, they somehow realized that it was going to be a boy, but she had never thought it would actually overwhelm her this much. She didn't want a boy, she wanted a little girl whom she can finally spoil, smile at, even be proud of. She wanted a girl whom she can love and who will love her in return. She had only felt little love during her whole life.

But her giving birth to a son ruined all these dreams even though her father had smiled with grim satisfaction when told. She had never loved her father, but then she had never loved anyone much. There had only been that one boy whom her father forbade her to talk to, and she had always been obedient.

When they told her to bear a boy, she had felt herself resisting at first, even laughed at them. How would she know that she would bear a son? She had dreamed of girls, girls with her sunlit bluish hair, of a girl who would warm a room whenever she entered it. She had never been like that, but the Hikari Clan had never wanted anything warm. Only brightness and the bitter cold.

So the first time the doctor announced to her that her baby was a boy, she felt herself submit to her tears for the first time in her life. She clutched the nurse then, not remembering what she had said. She had not asked the nurse after but the woman had visited her, looking most uncomfortable, asking why she thought the Hikari Clan had won and what was she babbling about then concerning little boys and darkness. She had stared at the woman. She knew she had lost.

No one visited her in the hospital during her two week stay. Although the boy itself was tiny, she had had a horrible and painful time giving birth to him and they needed her to stay there and rest. During the day, she thought about her part in all this, thought about how her father would be finally satisfied, how her mother would smile faintly, for it was not everyday that her father would smile.

The boy was wheeled into her room but she refused to let him suckle, knowing if she stared at him long enough, she would come to love him, and she would hate herself for it. The boy did not belong to her, he belonged to the Hikari Clan. Her father, her son's grandfather, would own him. That eternal darkness that passed for the light would own him, body, mind and soul. She did not want to love the tiny creature that came from her, knowing all the while she would never own him.

The nurses, though, were very concerned about the baby. They told her of their worries, although they tried to make it soothing: he seemed very pale and not fretful unlike other newborn babies. His eyes were still unable to see but they swore that he would always hear what they were saying. He never complained about feeding, only giving a tiny whimper if he had wet himself. And most of all, they were concerned that he never shed any tears as normal babies do.

When she heard this, she gave herself a harsh smile. Of course the boy would never cry. The Hikari Clan never cried. They didn't know how.

* * *

Her husband picked her up the day she was to be released, telling her that her family was expecting her in their mansion. She noticed the way he kept glancing at the baby who was strapped to the backseat, sleeping quietly. The baby was quiet all the way home and when they arrived, a maid came immediately to get the carrier as was instructed. Her husband helped her into the wheelchair and entered the large receiving area just as another maid arrived to take over. He nodded at her, told her to take care, and departed. She was left staring after him, dismissing him from her mind so quickly that she found herself wondering if the baby would grow up to have his features.

Her father arrived then and he welcomed her in the voice that she had not heard for two weeks. She listened to what he said, something about her doing the family some good, and that it would be necessary to begin the ritual right away. The boy's education had been planned earlier, and it was decided that he would be trained quickly and efficiently before the expected time that the darkness would appear. She nodded and tuned him out. She knew all this, of course.

Already, she was thinking of the boy whom the maid was carrying to a room next to hers. She thought how bare that room was, none of the usual baby things. She wondered about the other clan, the Niwa Clan. She had heard that the girl, the daughter of Daiki Niwa, was also expecting. They had always heard reports about the family; it was easy, the Niwa talked like a flooded dam. It seemed one of their traits. A complete opposite of the Hikari Clan, a fitting difference.

The speech ended with a plan and she began to pay attention once more. She thought of the future, thought how little part she would play in the boy's life. She thought, not for the first time, how unfortunate it was that she wasn't a boy. She would have saved her father a lot of trouble.

* * *

The baby screamed in the middle of the night. Her husband banged at the door, yelling that she should take care of it. She quickly rose, blinking away the heavy pull of sleep, and went to the other room.

The screaming stopped as soon as she opened the door. She went to the middle of the room where a lone crib stood and she looked down. She surmised that the baby was already beginning to see as she noticed that the pupils of his eyes were following her movements. His eyes were as blue as hers, she noticed once more, and she could not help feeling proud.

She stood beside him for a long time and they stared at each other. Then, the baby gradually blinked, his eyelids falling to close. A few seconds later, he had already drifted off to sleep.

She wondered what would have woken him. She looked around and discovered nothing. Nothing out of place. It must have been a nightmare. Do babies dream? She wondered that to herself but quickly dismissed the idea. She didn't want to think about dreams and babies. Especially not this baby.

She stared down at the fragile boy in the crib, tentatively reaching out a hand to cup one tiny cheek. So smooth and soft. There was a tiny drool on one side of his mouth and she could not help but smile. How fragile was this creature! So dependent on everyone yet emitting a strong glow of courage and strength. How beautiful was their clan, so cold and bitter, never warm to the touch. So smooth were their features, their movements always graceful! Her son was a Hikari all the way.

She watched him for a long time, keeping one hand on the sleeping baby's cheek. She wondered where she would be by the time he was fourteen. Suddenly, she couldn't think of any better place than by his side and she began to wish she would still be standing beside him when the time came for him to face his demons.

With that thought, she quickly snatched back her hand, breathing harshly.

She didn't want to yearn for this boy, she reminded herself, absently rubbing her hand with the other. She didn't need to. This boy was not hers. He never was.

* * *

Her father called for her around a week later and informed her solemnly about the inevitable. The Niwa Clan had finally produced another boy. She understood all this and accepted it. She could do nothing about it.

The next time she saw the boy, she calmly informed him even though she knew that babies under one year old don't really understand their language. But it seemed better that she tell him because to her it would feel like lying. She did not want to be caught in a lie, especially by this boy, this boy who had her blood.

The baby only stared up at her, blinking as she looked down. He waved no fists, gave no joyful gurgle. As if annoyed at her for disturbing his peace, he crawled away once more and left her in the room with the maid following his tiny figure that quickly disappeared through the door leading to the hallway.

Again, she wondered how the Niwa Clan would attend to their males. She had heard stories about the past Niwa, the one whom her father had met many years before, but she wondered more about the girl who was that man's daughter. The girl who just had her son. Would she tell her son about his past, about the coming future, or would the boy actually live a normal life? As normal as he can until he reached the age of fourteen?

Again, she thought of her son. Even now, the inevitable training period had begun since the arrival from the hospital. Already, the boy knew how to kept silent and crawl around without anyone noticing, never even bumping at anything except when he could not see. He tried to reach things that he could not reach, but he never complained if he never got it.

She felt a faint stirring in her heart and thought it was sadness. Instead of pushing it away, she allowed herself a few minutes to wallow in the uncertain feeling. The boy was unique, she had to admit. Not hers, but the Hikari Clan's. Maybe in the future, the boy would actually find happiness. Maybe even find love. It would find so many things that she had never found, that practically none of the Hikari have found, or if they had never caught.

Because their chances had always been stolen.

She thought of the baby and hoped his will not be stolen as well.

* * *

"It."

The boy had always been an "it" whenever she thought about him. She called him always by his first name, always adding the formal indication at the end. It would not do to show him a little kindness. Her father had already disapproved of her offering to tutor the boy but, really, there had been no other choice. When her husband died earlier the year, she decided to teach the boy all she knew and what she hoped she knew.

The boy was growing up fast, he was already four years old. Already, he was pouring over encyclopedias, novels, dictionaries, rulebooks, anything printed he could get his small hands on. When he had discovered this, her father had handed him the spellbooks and history records he had found and left him in a room where the boy had quickly poured over them, reading seriously.

She watched him for a few minutes. Only his eyes seemed to be active as even his body never rose with his breathing; the only time he actually moved was when he turned a page. Otherwise, he would never move at all.

Trying to gather the words in her brain was hard enough; she had never really talked to him. But the four years had passed, and there would be ten more years. His training had finally been decided, and she needed to tell him now before her father robbed him of the chance.

"Satoshi-san," she said, still unused to the boy's name even after the four years.

The boy merely looked up, blinking at her before he put down his book at the arm of the chair and going to her. He reached only her lower thighs and she had to bend down to stare at him in the eyes.

"You will be going to school now," she told him, fully knowing that he could understand. "You will be going there starting next week. You will be trained to become a true Hikari."

He cocked his head and she realized that even now, she was still not used to his voice. He never talked much.

"Will you become the best, Satoshi-san?" she asked him seriously.

He watched her again, so silent. His eyes, though, were the same as hers, she knew. So cold and aloof, so unreachable. They were like to stars, seeming so close from a distance but are actually light years away. How ironic that they would become so bright in the neat future. "Yes."

And because she assumed that he already knew what was to happen to him when he turned fourteen, she continued, "Your grandfather has already decided where you will go as well as the curriculums you would attend. You can become like a thief, can you?" It was not a question, rather a demand.

Of course, the boy answered, "Yes."

She nodded then and stood. It struck her again how small the boy was, how it was so meant to be held and embraced. But she was not the one to do that. Many Hikaris' bodies were made to be like that, to be held and cherished, but they never had anyone who would willingly do it without fearing their power of the light.

"You will be all right then," she told him, resisting the urge to pat his head and run her long fingers through the thick pale hair. She shouldn't, she had promised herself this.

"Of course, Mother."

She felt chilled with his assurance and realized that he would indeed be all right. A voice like that even chilled the mother, who probably knew more about him than anyone else except her father...who would not fear this voice?

She nodded again and thought once more of a small body, of a smile and an embrace. Of love. And wished, not for the last time, for a daughter.

* * *

The day he left, though, it felt infinitely colder. She had not thought it possible, but somehow, watching him from the third-floor as he hefted his large bag at his side, she felt more alone. This would not do, she knew, because she was never close to her son anyway. But he was leaving for England, even though he was only six years old. He would be alone there, in a boarding school for boys. He would be taught by the best, for the school he would be attending to was a school for the gifted children. She did not doubt for an instance that her son was an exemplary child.

She knew that as a mother, she should be seeing him off to the airport. She would not see him until the Christmas holidays, probably not even then. He would probably return in ten months' time, and he would change by then. Without meaning to, she let her hand press almost painfully at the glass. She would not allow a change, she knew that. The boy was already wonderfully trained in the famous Hikari ice. She would not allow him to be warmed.

Finally, everything was loaded at the trunk of their car and he looked back. Quickly, she stepped into the drapes, knowing that he had already seen her. Cursing to herself, she turned around and went to her dresser. Outside, she could hear the slamming shut of the doors and trunks, as well as the final rev of the motor before the boy finally left their estate for another country.

She looked at the mirror and wondered since when had she turned into a heartless monster.

How silent was the house without him! Of course, he had never talked much, but it somehow felt more like when he was not born. But she had been so used to thinking of him, of feeling him even at the other room, or even at the other side of the house. But he was so far now, and she could not help but somehow regret it.

She was staring at the art pieces in the vault. She would have to categorize them and send them off to the museum soon, but she could not help except watch them for a while. It seemed like the best thing to do at the moment.

The next thing she knew, her father was beside her, and he radiated with coldness.

"You love him," he started flatly.

She was surprised but did not show it. Instead, she shrugged. "It is difficult not to."

"You shouldn't have," he replied to her.

She stared at one of the statues that lay before her. Even now, she could not see what shape it was supposed to be. "It could not be helped."

"You shall grow attached to him."

"Don't tell me what I can or cannot do," she snapped, whirling to him, then quickly hated herself for it. Hikari never lose control.

He was regarding her silently before he spoke once more, "A pity. He never loves you any more than I do you or did your mother.

* * *

Her breath caught and there was a slight hysterical scream that threatened to rise in her throat. She quickly looked away, clenching her hands into tight fists, digging her nails into her palms. Her eyes were filled with tears but she blinked them away; they would do no good here. She had expected this, of course, when her mother died and her father had gone on as before. But her father was expecting a response now. "I did not expect you to," she told him. "And I never expected that of him." She looked up into his eyes, feeling brave enough to add, "I never ask for the impossible, Father."

He seemed amused at this.

It was closest thing they ever had to a conversation. They stood together for a long time, not touching, not talking, only staring at the vault as if it was the last most important thing in their lives.

* * *

Her son was eleven when she felt the urgent need to call him. She had called him before but only to inform him of the money they were sending to him for their studies. She had not seen him for a long time now, almost three years. He had been eight when he last came home to spend his vacation there. It was that time he finished his studies of the magical arts of sealing and transformation, all the things he needed to know for his future.

It was only when he was being called by the dorm manager to the phone that she actually realized what she was doing. She was acting on a whim, not a carefully strategized plan that all Hikari used to follow. But by that time, it was already too late. He was on the phone.

"Mother, is there something wrong?" he asked her in Japanese, because while there, he had been learning five more different languages.

She shook her head and realized he could not see her. She clutched the receiver of the phone. "No...no. I just wanted to call you. To hear your voice."

There was a silence in the other line. "Are you alright, Mother? You sound drunk."

She almost laughed hysterically. "Drunk? How dare you accuse me of such!"

He was quiet again, waiting, listening.

"Satoshi-you were always so good. A good son. I'm sure..." She faltered and went on, "I'm sure your future will be wonderful. You're a beautiful boy. I've always wanted a girl but I'm glad...glad I had you, even if I don't have you. Oh, Satoshi...there's this unbelievable emotion inside me! You should feel this...this feeling. This feeling that threatens to make me overflow, this pride, this hope I have for you. I know you'll be okay...because you're smart and good...and you won't make the same mistake your father and the other Hikari did...would you? You wouldn't follow my footstep, because...because the one who will take over you...he never wanted these feelings, and I am glad that I am a woman! Because I don't have to worry now for myself. But for you-for you..."

"Mother," he interrupted, almost gently. "You're not making any sense."

"Am I not?" she laughed bitterly and realized he was right. She didn't know what she was saying. "How...how perfectly unlike me. Satoshi...Satoshi, my son...don't let him hurt you when the time comes. Don't become him. Don't let him win over you...we're wrong. We were so wrong. Our coldness feeds him so that he becomes stronger with every generation! Embrace him, his body was always meant to be embraced, as yours. You can win, Satoshi, if you let yourself love..."

"You're babbling," he interrupted, sounding impatient.

She felt a shudder run through her body and she hunched over the phone. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, forgive me. I don't know where that came from. How unlike me, how unlike me at all!"

"Mother..."

"Please. Please don't concern yourself with this." She wanted to put down the phone and forget all this had happened but she couldn't stop now. Because she had already remembered what she was supposed to do. "Goodbye, Satoshi. I love you very, very much."

In the midst of his confused answer, she cut off the line and whirled around to see her father staring at her, his mouth curled into an almost beautiful sneer.

* * *

That night, she found herself with a file in hand as she sat by the fireplace of her room. An eleven-year-old boy, a woman who always smiled, a man who clearly loved her. A photograph of the woman and the boy as they stood together in a place that seemed theirs alone. She read the file again. Daisuke Niwa, sole heir of the Hikari Clan, who will turn to Dark Mousy when he reached fourteen.

She bowed her head. "Oh, my son," she whispered for the last time.

She stood and fed the file to the flames. They were completely consumed before she turned to her bed. She stared at the glass of milk she had prepared for herself, staring at it as if it was the last salvation she could hold on to. Maybe it was.

So she took it, drank it, and laid herself on her bed, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. It was a poor substitute for real warmth, but she supposed it would be sufficient enough, because it didn't really matter. Not really. She knew she would never be cold again.

* * *

Satoshi Hikari turned away from his mother's shrine to stare up at his grandfather, who stood beside him, eyes blank. He clenched his fists and looked away, because seeing him hurt. An old man who never shed a tear when his wife and son-in-law died. Who guided Satoshi through the training. The old man who could only watch as they burned her daughter's body.

An old man withering away, full of regrets.

It did not matter, Satoshi supposed. He was like his grandfather in many ways. Both had stood rigid as the priest sang of the dead. The only difference was that he knew that his grandfather was dying while he, Satoshi, was pulsing with life.

He thought of his mother's last phone call and tried his best to remember what she had told him, about the secret to defeat the one they had been battling their whole lives. But she had seemed so strange then, ranting on and on about things he did not understand that he had not listened carefully. And he found that, for the life of him, he could not remember what she had said.


End file.
